The Billionaire's Favourite Mistake(9)

He was just about to circle through the party again when he saw Stijn  Janssen off to one side, talking to a politician. Stijn had his arm  around a perky blonde in purple, two identical girls flanking them. Now  was as good a time as any to talk to the man. He finished his bottle of  water, set it on a nearby table, and approached the small group. As  Asher moved in, the politician left, and Stijn's gaze went to him.

"Mr. Janssen." Asher extended his hand, putting on his best  people-love-me grin. "Great party. Thanks for inviting me." He nodded at  the blondes, one of whom had started twirling her hair and eyeing him  with a hungry look. "Ladies."

To his surprise, Stijn gave him a cool look. "Do I know you?"

"I should hope so." Asher's friendly smile remained in place, though  inwardly he was wondering what the fuck was up with that. He pulled his  hand back, noticing Stijn hadn't bothered to shake it. "Asher Sutton.  I'm one of your stockholders and the owner of OutSource Everything. I  was Prospectus magazine's Businessman of the Year last year."         

     



 

"Ahhh." The look in Stijn's eyes grew cunning, and he held out his  hand. "Mr. Sutton. A pleasure to meet you. These are my girlfriends,  Bunni, Kiki, and Tiffi."

Tiffi continued to twirl her hair, smiling at him. Yikes.

"Lucky guy," Asher said smoothly. He shook Stijn's hand, trying not to  feel distaste for the man. Cold bastard, but he'd saved Asher's ass, so  he couldn't hate him. "Listen, I wanted to come and thank you personally  for what you did for me last year."

"Girls, give me a moment." Stijn turned to his girlfriends and made a  shooing motion. One dared to kiss his cheek, and then all three  scampered away like naughty children. Which, given the age difference  between them and their boyfriend, they very well could have been. Jesus.  Once the women had left, Stijn's calculating gaze returned to Asher.  "I'm sorry, but I'm confused. What exactly did you say that I did for  you?"

This was damned odd. How could the man not remember giving him five  million dollars? "I was having some financial trouble last year and you  gave me an endowment to bail my company out." When the man's face showed  not a flicker of recognition, Asher began to wonder if he'd somehow  gotten the information wrong. The letter he'd received had come from  Dutchman letterhead, though. There was no mistaking the company's rather  lewd logo of a woman with legs spread over the M in Dutchman.

"I do not recall this," Stijn said slowly. "What was the amount?"

"Five million."

The elder man's eyes narrowed at him. "I would know if I gave five million out to a young upstart company."

His distaste for the man grew, and Asher had to fight to keep the  friendly smile on his face. "Nevertheless, I wanted to thank you  personally and let you know I was willing to do the same for you."

That got a reaction from him. Stijn's pale eyes flickered with  interest. He glanced around at the partygoers to make sure no one was  close by, and then leaned in. "What is it you think you know about me?"  The man's accent grew heavier.

"I imagine since we both received the Prospectus award, that you need it for the same reasons I did."

Stijn's nostrils flared. "This is not a good place to talk. But I am  interested in your proposition. Shall we meet tomorrow?" He reached into  a pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to Asher.

He took it, slightly mystified as Stijn nodded at him and then abruptly  left, off to greet another man in a tuxedo. Immediately, the three  Easter-egg-colored girlfriends flocked close once more, though one kept  shooting him longing looks. Well, that was damned odd. Asher tucked the  card into his pocket. It was almost as if the man had no idea what Asher  was talking about-

Oh, fuck.

Gretchen's voice wafted through his mind. She's carried a torch for you since, like, grade school.

Greer.

Stijn's only daughter. Other than an employee of the company, she would  be the only one with access to Dutchman letterhead. The money hadn't  come from Stijn after all. It had come from his daughter, who had ample  money of her own sitting in multiple trust fund accounts from both  parents.

Asher wiped his mouth dry, shocked.

He was such an idiot. He'd never questioned why Greer's father's  company-a fucking titty magazine-would send a telecom company five  million dollars to help him out. He'd just been awash in his own misery,  his life falling to pieces around him, and hadn't stopped to ask  questions. He'd taken the money and righted his sinking ship and never  questioned the gift.

Greer had never said a thing.

And how had he repaid her? A drunk fuck in the gardens. No wonder she  wouldn't return his calls. He'd hurt her feelings and destroyed their  friendship, and until this very moment, he'd had no idea just how much  the friendship meant to him. Until they were gone, he hadn't realized  how much their lunches had been such an important part of his week. He'd  always thought of Greer as sweet and pleasant to be around, and he  liked her as a person. She was quiet, but smart and quick. She'd always  made him think, and her observations had made him smile many a time.         

     



 

Now that he knew what she'd done for him, his affection had grown only  deeper. Now that she was no longer in his life? He missed her with a  strange ache that he had no idea how to fill.

He had billions now, thanks to her help. It wasn't the amount of money  that humbled him-though that was pretty fucking impressive on its own-it  was that she trusted in him enough to fork it out, no questions asked.  Greer had been such a true friend to him in his time of need.

It only reinforced his need to find her. She had to be at the party  tonight. He'd watch and wait for her to arrive. Her father would be  giving a speech soon, and Greer would surely be present for that. He  found his place card at one of the tables in the center of the room, a  few hungry-looking women already seated there. This party was full of  girls on the lookout for a sugar daddy. Again, not surprising given the  man they were there tonight to celebrate, but the avid, calculating  looks in their eyes made Asher's skin crawl a little. He plucked his  card off the table and switched it with one at the far end of the  cluster of tables so he could watch for Greer.

An hour passed. The party was in full swing, people crowding in and  getting tipsy. The Dutchman girls were everywhere, breasts exposed as  they passed out drinks and posed for photos. How had someone as quiet  and unobtrusive as Greer managed to come from an environment such as  this? It didn't make sense. People stopped to chat with him, but he kept  the conversations brief, his gaze scanning constantly for the one  person he wanted to find. Eventually, people migrated to the tables and  the editor of Prospectus moved to the podium and began to speak.

Asher's gaze moved over the crowd. Stijn was seated at the front table  with his three girlfriends, all gazing raptly up at the speaker. There  were a few other people Asher didn't recognize at Stijn's table, but not  his daughter. Damn it, where was she?

As one speech ended and people began to clap, Stijn moved toward the  podium. As he got up, Asher's body stiffened. There was Greer, seated  directly behind her father at the next table. There was no mistaking the  long fall of dark, silky hair and the big, chunky glasses that  swallowed up so much of her face. Her brown skin seemed to glow against  the pale blue of her low-cut bodice, and her arms were bare.

Immediately, he had an inappropriate boner. Damn it. Asher mentally  willed his body to behave, but all he could think about were his few  flashes of memory from that night-her soft body welcoming his, the  adoring look in her dark eyes, the delicate swells of her dark-tipped  breasts. She hadn't noticed him thus far, and he was able to drink in  the sight of her, unobstructed. She smiled and nodded as someone next to  her spoke, but her expression seemed to be guarded. Wary. When her  father spoke, her expression was attentive, but not beaming with  affection or pride. A memory niggled at Asher, of Greer spending  holidays back at her apartment rather than going home to visit family.  Her expression changed as someone said something to her, and he watched a  genuine smile spread across her face, and his body reacted again.

It seemed that now his type had gone from redheads to, well, Greer.

This was not a problem for him.

The speech droned on, Stijn taking his time to talk himself up as he  spoke of his company and his many accomplishments. Asher watched Greer  through the entire speech, noting when her expression grew distant, and  when she truly smiled. Odd that he could tell the difference, given that  she tended to mask her emotions well.

At some point, the speech ended and the crowd surged to their feet,  giving Stijn a standing ovation. People whistled and cheered as if the  man hadn't bought himself a damn award, but Asher clapped along with the  rest of them just to blend in. When the group started to disperse into  partying again, he got out of his chair and moved toward Greer's table,  stalking her.